


part and parcel

by doriananders



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doriananders/pseuds/doriananders
Summary: tw - drug usefive times they smoked together/five times they didn't use the words that they needed





	part and parcel

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for emily, who is sunshine and love and care. thank you for always hearing what i mean to say. i am so proud to be in your life.

**september, year five**

 

His throat was raw from the smoke and the coughing by the time James reached over to pat a comforting hand on his back. His eyes opened long enough to catch the amused faces of Remus and Peter, _barely_ holding back laughter. All in all, he felt too much like he was being made fun of to appreciate the situation at all. 

“Nothings even _happening_ ,” he said petulantly to Moony, who was good enough to not roll his eyes while he took a drag for himself. After a moment, he wordlessly held the spliff out to Sirius, both his eyebrows hiked up. Sirius couldn’t help but have the odd, tar-like shame in his stomach spit out defensive almost-witticisms. 

“You look ridiculous like that, you’ve gotta stop trying to raise that eyebrow, mate. Face the facts. You just can’t do it.”

“Shut it. Take a drag, darling, and try inhaling this time.” 

Sirius wanted to refuse, primarily because smoking _hurt_ and he didn’t fully expect it to be as bad as this, but he didn’t want to be the odd man out. Being left behind was worse than being made fun of.

He breathed in, careful to follow Remus’ instructions from the start of the night, and held it for a few measly seconds before coughing out the other half of his left lung.

He handed it off to Peter soon as he could, hands shaking. He watched his friends laughing in low, hushed tones, everyone a little sluggish, squinting and smoothed out edges, when he felt a trickling softness spread from his head down. His body went lax, everything inside him wider. He shrugged against the tower wall.

“Oh, hey, yeah. That’s not bad, Moons.” 

Remus grinned at him, all teeth and sunshine, and Sirius’ stomach fluttered.

 

**july, year five**

 

“Lovely of Peter to lend us some privacy,” Sirius tossed offhand, eyes gone squinty and smiling nonstop, sitting cross legged with Remus.

“You left him asleep on the couch,” Remus admonished, sitting closer now to Sirius than he had been since- well, a while. Sirius leaned over in a lazy turn, smelling at Remus’ hair.

“Smell like a bird, Moony. Nice and good.” 

“Quiet, Pads. Shhh.” 

Remus pressed a hand against Sirius’ chest, and his heart starting to beat with more fervor. They were slumped together now, the sun beating down, Remus cuddled up to him. The warmth was comfortable, wrapping all the way around and radiating out. He closed his eyes, petting at Remus’ hair while his head swam pleasantly. 

He let himself melt into the moment, leaning into the feeling of absolute, all-consuming contentment, a happiness so settled it made his chest collapse to think of all those years he’d gone without it. His arms tightened around Remus’ chest, squeezing briefly, gathering courage.

Thirty seconds later, eyes squeezed tight, words and declarations sitting in the back of his throat like stomach acid, he gasped, shooting upward and toddling his way to his feet. Remus tumblied onto the grass comically as Sirius started his march back. 

“Pads- Pads, where are you going?” Laughter speckled Remus’ words, all of his syllables bumping into each other.

“Remus, the butter is still on the stove!”

 

**february, year six**

 

“Thanks.” 

Sirius took the joint from Remus between his fingers, lolled his head back, and reached up to paw the elastic out of his hair — the high made it feel stifling, the pressure a distraction until he couldn’t feel anything besides the throb at the back of his head where his hair was gathered. He looked up at the stars, eyes mapping out the constellations he knew, blinking. He inhaled the sticky smoke, feeling the way it filled out his chest and holding it there. 

“We’ve been worried about you.” 

Remus’ voice was softer than Sirius imagined it to be. 

Sirius turned to stare, then reached for a hold onto Remus’ neck. Remus flinched before melting into the touch, and Sirius leaned in and pressed their lips together, open and lax. 

He breathed out. 

Smoke passed between them, Remus’ breath constituting the only noise on this cold winter night. 

Sirius faltered, his whole body aching to sink into the could-be-kiss. He was only brave enough for a moment’s hesitation before he pulled away, panic vibrating against his sternum, to lie back against the stone floor. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus nodded after a silent, tense moment. His head rolled onto Sirius’ shoulder, leaning forward to pluck the joint out of his fingers. When he spoke next, his voice was thick and slow, the growl of it making Sirius shiver.

“You didn’t lose your home, you know. Or your family.” If it were anyone else, Sirius would have just ignored him. He hated good advice. “You didn’t lose me. Pads, I’ll… I will never turn against you. I will always be a part of your life.” 

Sirius’ eyes welled and his head pounded. He was sitting close enough to Remus that their arms were all pressed together, the spot just above their elbows, the physical touch that came hand in hand with their friendship after all these years. It was the warmest part of his body.

He’s lost the war. Officially, now. 

And at least there weren’t any more battles to fight. It didn’t have to weigh so heavily. A hopeless and crushing loss, at long last! There was deep, perverted comfort in knowing it had ended. He never had to speak or care for his blood relations, ever, ever again. He could choose to stop craving them, finally. He could accept that he was looking for a love they never had to give.

He nodded, turning and reaching over to tug at a lock of Remus’ hair, eyes firmly shut, and his voice whispered, “I know.” 

 

**april, year seven**

 

“Anyways, I talk too god damn much. All of this is just to say that — you shouldn’t live with James,” Sirius scrambled to justify his thoughts, knowing full well his bloodshot eyes made it hard not to be laughed off and dismissed. “You can come live with _me_. James is going to start a family, he doesn’t need—“

“Sirius, I am aware of what a burden I am to those around me, without your frequent reminders.” 

His breath cut off in his throat. He spent four seconds letting out all the air in his lungs, feeling the ache reverberate.

“That’s a cheap shot.” 

“I thought so, too.” Remus’ face was screwed up and smarmy, and Sirius used his whole hand to shove his face to the side, their conversation falling out of step and stumbling into a short series of mumbled chuckled into measured breathing. 

“I just….” Sirius huffed, pushing off the stone floor to stand and pace, run his hands through his hair. After a short lap, his arms dropped limp to his sides, shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know how to live without you.” There wasn’t a better way to say it, and there wasn’t a point explaining it, because Remus knew. Remus knew him better than almost anybody alive. His heart pounded, excitement and nausea for how honest his words were, stripped down past the arguments and excuses.

Remus avoided his eyes, and Sirius slumped in on himself, slumping back down to sit while electric roots of panic hugged the bend of his ribcage. 

“Don’t be dramatic.” 

Oh.

Okay.

 

 

**july, year seven**

 

Sirius woke up with the high just hitting the edges of him now, lightheaded and pleasant. His mouth felt like a bubble, wobbly and slick like words would tumble out when he spoke. The school year had long been coming to an end, and the world with all it’s terrifying possibilities stretched ahead. The deep familiar red tones of their dorm looked, for the first time, like what they were: a temporary home. 

Remus radiated heat next to him, his limbs akimbo spread across Sirius and the anywhere else on the bed there was room to claim. His nose was buried in Remus’ hair, his body curved around Remus’ body, and he couldn’t remember any time he’d felt safer and happier than here. 

He smelled sleep, he smelled dirt, he smelled their smoke from their pre-nap toke clinging to the curtains they blew their smoke into without meaning, three hours into eating too many brownies and giggling. He smelled comfort, and Remus. 

He couldn’t have been asleep for more than forty minutes now, the sun hadn’t even risen. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his shoulders to droop back down to a resting position, trying not to move much more than he already had, caught up with desperation to stay exactly as he was.

Remus’s breath came in steady, hot puffs onto Sirius’s collarbone. Every fibre of Sirius’ body ached, but he smiled. 

They had tomorrow and the next day, and forever. This life would be lived together, or not at all. Remus was part and parcel of himself. It was a fundamental truth.

He closed his eyes, and he went back to sleep. 

There would be time to say it later.


End file.
